


There's a place at your table (with my name on)

by seratonation



Series: We'll fall until we're free [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, Finally, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Motion Sickness, Moving In Together, Multi, clint is great at boats, this one is more comfort than hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:31:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seratonation/pseuds/seratonation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I think it’s time I go home,” he said.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“You want to leave?” Bruce asked, brow furrowed. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Listen, it’s obvious you guys have your own life going,” he said, “my leg’s all healed now. I should get back to my own space, my own life.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's a place at your table (with my name on)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song Long Haul by NO
> 
> For the Hurt/Comfort Bingo prompt: [Motion Sickness](http://themadwritings.livejournal.com/51369.html)
> 
> Thank you to Shannen for reading it through for me <3 any remaining mistakes are my own. 
> 
> (Also please note I finally named the series)

“Did I overcook the vegetables again?” 

Clint looked up from his plate and tried not to look guilty. “No, they’re good,” he said.

“So what is it?” Tony asked, “Did you get into the cookie stash.”

“Tony,” Bruce said, rolling his eyes. “Clint, if you don't like the food maybe I can make you something else?” 

“No, no, the food is delicious, I promise,” he said, “I’ve just been thinking.”

“Don't hurt your pretty little head,” Tony said, smirking. 

Clint made a face at him then turned to Bruce. It was easier to talk to him. 

“I think it’s time I go home,” he said.

“You want to leave?” Bruce asked, brow furrowed. 

“Listen, it’s obvious you guys have your own life going,” he said, “my leg’s all healed now. I should get back to my own space, my own life.”

Tony and Bruce shared a look. “Clint, we know about your life,” Bruce said gently, “we looked you up when we got back.”

“What?” he asked, trying not to sound hurt. They didn’t trust him?

“We know about the money, and your brother,” Tony said, “and the Strategic Homeland something or other.”

“SHIELD,” Clint corrected absently.

“We know about Phil Coulson,” Bruce said.

Clint stood up suddenly, the chair scraping against the tiles. “That was none of your business.”

“That’s not the point,” Tony said, “the point is we know you have nothing to go back to.”

“Clint,” Bruce continued in the same gentle voice, “stay with us.”

“I’m not safe,” he said, “I’m not stable. Things happened to me, which even I can’t will away.”

Tony laughed at that. “Look at who you’re talking to.”

“But you know what you’re doing, you’re in control!” He gripped the edge of the table, not making eye contact. “I got him killed.”

“People die all the time,” Tony started, voice going hard. Clint saw Bruce’s hand twitch, as if wanting to reach out to Tony, and Clint looked away. 

“No, this was my fault. If for nothing else you know I'm wanted, I'm a criminal,” he said, “they’ll come after me.”

“We broke out of one prison, we can break out of another,” Bruce said, and laughed nervously, “can't be any worse right?”

Clint looked up at him, his face grave. “You don't know SHIELD.”

“Listen, we don't care about any of that,” Tony said, “you can't run forever. Stay with us, we’ll help you.” 

“What if I don't need your help?”

“Maybe you don't need it,” said Bruce, “but do you want it?”

Clint sighed and his whole body relaxed, all the fight leaving him and he practically fell back into his chair.

“Yes,” he said, “yes I want to stay, but,” he looked up at them through his lashes, “I need to get my stuff.”

***

“You really don’t need to come with me,” Clint said, standing by the door. 

Tony waved a hand distractedly. “Last time you were out in the forest all alone you got captured.”

“And you were together and you still got captured,” Clint threw back.

“We’ll help you carry things,” Bruce said, shouldering the bag.

“I don’t-” Clint tried as they shepherded him out and Tony was locking the door behind him. 

“Lead the way,” Tony said. 

Clint rolled his eyes and started walking. He followed the sun and the smell of water, watched the birds change from forest dwelling blue jays to shore-loving eagles and minks.

He knew they were close when he spotted his first pair of ducks. About an hour later they reached the edge of the lake. He turned left and they walked along the sand until they came up to a well concealed boat. 

“Just through here,” he said.

“Wait,” Bruce said, “we have to cross the lake?”

“Yeah? Didn’t I mention I live on the other side?” he said, gesturing at the distant shore.

“No,” Bruce said, looking terse, “must’ve slipped your mind.”

“Is there going to be a problem?” he said, hesitating. 

“No, no,” Bruce said, looking out over the lake. 

“Bruce gets seasick,” Tony explained. 

“Not too late to turn back,” Clint said, starting to clear away the branches covering the small boat. 

“I’ll be fine,” Bruce said, and started to help them. Once the boat was clear they pushed it out into the water and jumped in.

“Grab an oar,” he said, thrusting one at Tony, “make yourself useful.”

“Why me?” Tony asked, taking the oar anyway, “My hands are still kinda-”

“Nice try,” Clint said, “Bruce is going to sit across from us and watch the horizon get closer, and hopefully not get sick in my boat.”

Once Tony and Clint got a rhythm going, it was easy. The slow sway always helped calm him, and it was perfect weather today; bright sunlight and a gentle breeze so it didn’t get too hot. 

They were half way across the lake before Bruce made a sudden movement, grabbing at the edges of the boat. 

“You alright there?” Clint asked, as they both stopped rowing, “You’re looking a little green, no pun intended.”

Bruce gave him a look and leaned over the side of the boat, and was very still. 

“That was totally intended,” Tony was saying, “you could have said anything else.”

“Bruce?” Clint asked, “Are you going to be okay?” 

“Just give me a moment,” he said, “talk about something else, will you?” 

“How about this weather,” Tony said, turning to Clint. 

“Pretty great isn’t it?” Clint replied, “Great for hunting.”

“So that’s something you actually do, is it?” Tony asked. 

“Yeah,” he said, “a felon’s got to eat, you know.”

Bruce let out a groan.

“Sorry,” he said, as Bruce straightened up. 

“You alright now?” Tony asked.

Bruce shook his head no. “I think we should get moving again,” he said, crossing his arms over his stomach, “the sooner we get there the better.”

Tony didn't look convinced. Clint looked between them and rolled his eyes. “Get up,” he said, “I’ve got this.”

“What?” Tony said.

“I’ve got this, go hold his hand, or whatever.”

Tony gave him a look, but passed the oar to Clint and moved to sit next to Bruce. 

“I’m okay,” Bruce said quietly.

“I know,” Tony said, rubbing circles on his back, “but this way I don't have to row anymore.”

Bruce gave him a weak smile. “Ass,” he muttered. 

“You love me anyway,” Tony said.

“You know I can still hear you right?” Clint said, “The boat is only so big.”

“Whatever,” Tony said, “you heard the man, the sooner we get there, the better.”

“Don’t worry,” Clint said, and grinned, “I’m great at boats.” 

Bruce’s smile widened a fraction and Tony made a face but Clint started rowing again before either of them could comment. 

He watched Tony keep Bruce distracted, pointing things out in the distance. Sometimes he’d say something about building a new house, or the perfect spot for a new experiment. 

Clint tried to focus on rowing, on the constant pull and swing but it was hard keeping his eyes to himself, to not watch them talk in whispers and share gentle touches. 

By the time they hit the shore Bruce was looking better. He wobbled on his knees when he got on dry land, and gripped Tony’s wrist to keep himself steady, but he looked less pale and clammy, more human. 

He saw Tony wince and put a hand on Bruce's shoulder. “Come on, doc,” he said, “let up on Tony’s new nerves, yeah?”

“I don't mind,” Tony said but Bruce loosened his grip, and intertwined their fingers together. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I just need some water and we can be on our way.”

Clint pulled out his canteen and passed it over. Bruce took a few small sips and passed it back. “I’m okay,” he insisted, giving them a reassuring look, “really, better.”

“My place isn't far,” Clint said, “it's just this way.”

This side of the lake was a lot tamer, there were pathways, and in the distance Bruce could see a pier and possibly a house, with golden light spilling out into the darkening twilight.

“My neighbor,” Clint explained, “quiet lady, used to be in the war.”

“Which one?” Toby asked curiously.

“The most recent one,” Clint said, “she's still young, I think she did some quiet stuff, behind the scenes, you know?” 

“Like a spy?” 

“I think so,” he said, “she doesn’t talk much about it, she doesn't talk much about anything.”

“You’re not worried she'll get you in trouble if she sees us?”

“Natasha?” Clint said incredulously, “No, she's one of the good guys.”

It was only about 20 minutes when the path started to turn upwards and they reached a small cottage in a clearing.

“This is where you live?” Tony asked

“It’s one of a few places I own,” he explained, “but this is where I come if I want to get off the radar.”

He unlocked the door and led them in. He closed the curtains and turned on the lights.

“We can stay here tonight, I don't recommend rowing at night unless we’re fishing and we can give Bruce some time to recover.” 

“I don't need time-” Bruce started.

“It’s okay, doc,” Clint said, “like I said, rowing at night, not recommended, especially with a new moon.”

“I’ll start packing, Tony if you could start dinner, use up what you can from the kitchen.” He walked over to his phone and pressed a button. 

The machine told him he had one message and a girl’s voice came on.

“Hey loser, you've been gone for a while and there's nothing from SHIELD, so I'm hoping no news is good news and you're not lying in a ditch somewhere,” she said, “anyway I'm leaving too, I'm going - well better I don't say, just in case. Stay safe, thanks for not telling me anything asshole. PS Lucky is at Tasha’s, you know she'll take good care of him, better than you ever did.” 

The machine beeped again and went silent. 

“Was that more secret stuff?” Tony asked.

“Sort of,” he said and deleted the message without a second thought. Safer for everyone involved. But it was good to know that Kate was safe, that she was out. 

He took his stuff and went to the bedroom to start packing. All of his clothes fit into a duffel bag that he placed by the door. Next to them, packed much more carefully, were his bows and arrows. 

His whole life fit in a two foot square area. He knew he should feel sad but all he could think was that it was better for the trip back. 

Tony was still working in the kitchen and Bruce was taking a nap on the loveseat, curled up in a way that looked uncomfortable.

“You guys can take the bed,” he said to Tony, “it's bigger, I'll sleep on the couch and we can head out tomorrow.”

He took the phone and stepped outside. He let the cool breeze brush his face, and he breathed deep the smells of the lake and the pines. It didn't feel like goodbye. Mostly because it felt like he'd left this place, this life, a long time ago. 

The door opened and Tony stepped out. “Hey,” he said, hands in his jeans pockets.

“Hey,” he replied.

“The food’s ready,” Tony said, “whenever you are.”

“Okay, I'll be there in a second,” he said, “I just need to make a call.”

Tony nodded and didn't leave. 

Clint waited. It felt like Tony was waiting to say something.

“Everything alright?” he asked, when Tony still wouldn't talk. 

“Yeah,” he said, “it's just that, we were thinking, Bruce and I, that is-”

“You changed your mind,” Clint said, not surprised, “you can take the boat tomorrow morning, and I can get another one-”

“No, god,” Tony interrupted, “I'm not really good at this, look, we, we were thinking you could share the bed with us.”

“It’s not - I mean, you two, I thought you'd want some alone time-”

“No, idiot,” Tony said, “we want you to _share the bed with us._ ”'

“Oh,” Clint said, then, “ _oh_ , are you sure? I mean, I'm not-”

“We’re sure,” Tony said, “we talked about it and - yeah, our home, our bed, everything.”

“I- I don't know what to say,” he said.

“Say yes,” Tony said.

“Yes,” Clint replied, “how could I say no?”

“Good,” Tony said, “good, food’s ready when you are.” He walked back into the house and left Clint alone again. 

He looked at the phone in his hand and thought about changing what he had planned to say, then figured it was still relevant. 

He dialled the number and waited for the machine to beep. “Hey, it's me, I just want you to know I'm alive, it got a bit...scary for a second there but I'm fine now. Thanks for taking care of things, I can't tell you where I’m going but I’m okay, I'm happy. Goodbye loser, take care of yourself.”

He hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment. This was it, he wasn't coming back, and he’ll probably never see Kate or Lucky again. He was struck with that feeling again, he should feel sad, but mostly he was just excited. 

This was a new beginning, a fresh start. He walked into the house to see a sleep mussed Bruce trying to tame his hair as he moved towards the kitchen, and Tony was just placing the pot at the table. 

When they were all settled Tony looked at Bruce and smiled. “I asked him.”

“You asked him,” Bruce repeated, “what did you ask him?”

“About being with you,” Clint put in casually, not making eye contact, focusing on the food instead.

“Oh really?” Bruce's eyebrows went up, “and what did you say?”

“He said yes,” Tony replied, grinning. 

“He did, did he?” Bruce said. He looked at Clint and smiled. It wasn't one Clint had seen on him before, it was sharp, it promised things.

Clint felt his breath catch. 

After dinner, they piled the plates in the sink and Clint all but dragged them to bed. They let him slide into the middle between them, and he dragged Bruce in first, kissing him softly at first and then deepening the kiss, opening his mouth with Bruce's encouragement, letting his tongue slide over Bruce’s lips, into his mouth. 

“That’s not fair,” he heard Tony say, so he pulled away from Bruce and turned to Tony. Kissing Tony was different, Tony kissed hard, as if he was desperate for it. He curled one hand around Clint’s neck and brought him closer still. Their teeth clanked together but Tony barely pulled back, not breaking contact. 

When he finally pulled away Clint was breathless but Tony leaned over him and kissed Bruce. Watching them, knowing he was allowed to, was amazing. Watching the push and pull between them, the balance they had was even better. 

They didn't go beyond that but when Clint woke up the next morning he was tangled up between them, Bruce curled up against him and Tony spread out on his other side, mouth open and foot dangling off the mattress. 

The sun was already high in the sky, and there was a gentle breeze swaying the trees outside. The shifting shadows and soft rustling were comforting, despite the heat, but he knew that they have to get moving if they wanted to get home before dark.

Home. He didn't want to dwell on that thought too much so he shifted slightly and shook Tony awake first, before turning and placing a hand on Bruce's shoulder. 

“We have to get moving,” he whispered, “it's a long way back.”

Bruce groaned and curled even more into himself. “Another boat ride,” he grumbled.

“Yeah,” Clint said, then “sorry.”

Tony let out a soft chuckle. “I think I know how to make it better,” he said, stretching his arms over his head.

They moved quickly. Clint made sure every room was empty, clear of any sign they were ever there before closing it and moving on. By the time he was in the kitchen Tony was finishing up with the dishes and Bruce was crushing something with a fork.

“What are you doing?”

“Ginger,” Bruce said, “it's meant to be good for this sort of thing. And Tony mentioned that maybe I could sit in the middle of the boat, there's less rocking, I’ll help you row, it’ll help me focus on something else and we can take it from there.”

“Great,” he said, “I'm done with the rest of the house so I you guys are ready to leave, I am too.”

“Perfect,” Tony said, drying his hands on a towel before throwing it on the bench, “let's go.”

They collected the bags and stepped out. Clint locked the door and walked away. He didn't turn back. He didn't need to. 

The boat was still waiting for them, so they loaded the bags and set off, with Bruce at Clint’s side and Tony in front of them. 

The sun was scorching, so Bruce pulled out a purple umbrella that looked vaguely familiar and opened it. 

“I found this in a corner in your living room,” he said, looking apologetic, “I thought it might be useful.”

“And useful it is,” Clint said, looking at the thick lining, “sorry Tony.”

“I see how it is,” he said taking off his shirt, “it's a competition is it?” He wrapped the shirt around his head, his undershirt leaving little to the imagination. 

Clint looked away to see Bruce watching him, before turning to Tony.

“Not a competition,” Bruce said, “we’re all on the same team.” 

“Are we?” Tony asked, “And what game are we playing?”

“It's not a game,” Bruce said, leaning into Clint’s side, and pressed a soft kiss to Clint’s lips. There was a hint of ginger still on his lips and Clint wanted to kiss him again, so he did. He put a hand on Bruce's cheek and licked into his mouth, past the sharp bite until there was nothing but heat. 

“I could totally get used to that,” Tony said, leaning back against the boat and turning his face up to the sun. 

“Me too,” Clint said, turning to Bruce. 

Bruce looked away and took hold of the oar again. “Let's go home.”

When they made it to shore they helped Clint make sure the boat was hidden, and then started on the walk back. It seemed to go by quicker even though they had more things to carry. 

They made it just as the sun was setting, turning the sky a pale blue grey. Once the doors slid closed behind them Tony dropped the duffel in his hand and pushed Clint against the wall. For a moment Clint was terrified he'd read the situation wrong, that this was a trap but Tony was kissing him, hungrily, like he couldn't get enough. 

“Let's go to bed,” someone said, and he realised it was him.

“Good idea,” Tony said. He took Clint by the wrist and Bruce with the other and all but dragged them away. 

Yeah he could definitely get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> BINGO
> 
> So that's my hc_bingo for the year, but keep an eye out at [my tumblr](http://seratonation.tumblr.com) there is definitely more in store.


End file.
